I grew up in a town filled with trees and tell myself that’s why watching this city steadily decimate its urban forest brings me such sadness. Every now and then when I mention old trees being cut from the heart of the city some few might say, “Oh, how awful!” and shake their heads, but do nothing. Some claim there’s no recourse; that the city itself is a lurching juggernaut of maladministration and that any public outcries are simply shrugged off, unheeded, leaving us struggling aimlessly and ineffectively with our objections to arborists with chainsaws. Soon those who remember a city enrobed in green will find shade in the shadows of what passes as progress here casts, and in my adopted city I’ll lose much of what I have come to love.
“And all that the Lorax left here in this mess
was a small pile of rocks, with the one word…